


us, together (we're all in)

by chibyeol (minitala)



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Minor Violence, Original Character(s), i accidentally maybe made it hollywood lol, inagaki accidentally maybe made it forty percent canon, its me, lol, say sike inagaki-sensei, senku isnt actually dead, starting z159, whatd you expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26355991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minitala/pseuds/chibyeol
Summary: The Americans are ruthless. By their hand, Ishigami Senku is assassinated and the Kingdom of Science loses its leader. But by pushing them to a corner, Dr. Xeno and his people will soon realize that a Kingdom is not only its leader. And its people will rise to the challenge.But first, they're going to need their mentalist. Because no one can match Ishigami Senku's mind but Asagiri Gen.-an alternative take on how the new america city arc goes down, where gen steps up to become the new leader of the perseus
Relationships: Asagiri Gen/Ishigami Senkuu, Stanley Snyder/Dr. Xeno
Comments: 28
Kudos: 216





	us, together (we're all in)

**Author's Note:**

> HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS FINALLY DONE MY GOD CAN I STUDY NOW JESUS
> 
> warnings:  
> \- again, this is a kinda, ehhh, darker take to things so theres gonna be some real injuries other than senku getting shot. but nothing too major, promise!  
> \- no you dont need to understand the ciphers to understand the plot. theyre little clues to what will happen which are usually explained after the ciphers itself anyway. theyre just fun little easter eggs ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ  
> \- edited a scene! sorry about that!  
> \- everybody lives, just wanna point that out

He ran, the moment the command left Xeno’s lips. It races through his mind: Senku’s name, the connection between the two scientists, the accurate description, the “ _Yes, do it._ ”

There was nowhere to go, of course. He ended up in one of the balconies that dot the castle the Americans built, looking towards the night landscape. He didn’t hear it, an entire valley separates him from the crew of the Perseus, after all. But he feels it in the heaviness of the atmosphere that sinks, sees it in the flock of birds flying from the west, can almost taste the metallic tang of blood and smell the bitter smoke of gunpowder carried by the eastward wind.

Gen falls to his knees.

He’s too late.

Under the orders of Dr. Xeno, Stanley Snyder has taken his shot, and Ishigami Senku is dead.

-

-

_Gen’s fingers fly with practiced ease as he shuffles the deck Senku had given him. Despite his body being frozen in stone for millennia, his hands remember the motions without being told what to do, his fingers making the lifts, the inserts, the cuts, the cover needed to do a false shuffle._

_And_ yet—

_First, a classic push-through-false shuffle, once, twice. Then, his personal favorite, the Zarrow shuffle, perfect the first time despite the lack of practice, then again, and again, and again, and—_

_“That’s convenient.”_

_To his credit, Gen hardly even pauses in the middle of his fifth Zarrow shuffle at the sudden sound of Senku’s voice. He finishes the false riffle without a hitch, combining the two halves into an unchanged singular whole._

_“What is, Senku-chan?”_

_The scientist comes closer to sit beside Gen on the deck of the Perseus. He has since changed from the suit Ryuusui had stuffed him into for their grand poker battle, back to the leather clothing he’s had since waking in the Stone World._

_Senku nods towards the deck still held in his hands, “The ability to trick people into seeing something happening that’s actually just an act.”_

_“Is that so~ I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking bout-ay~”_

_“Sure,” Senku drawls, “Wanna let me have a look if the cards have been randomized at all?”_

_They’re not. They’ve been in the correct order since the start, from the Ace to the King, from the suit of Spades, Hearts, Diamonds, and the Clubs. But that would not have been obvious to anyone just watching, not even if Gen had so much as slipped._

_Why is Senku so adamant on rubbing his victory over him anyway?_

_“Ah-ah, not so fast, Senku-chan!” Gen tuts, waving his finger against Senku’s scowling face, even as he slides the deck home into one of the pockets of his voluminous sleeves, “A magician never reveals his ecret-say~!”_

_Senku gives him an unimpressed look. “I’m not here to gloat.”_

_“Senku-chan says the strangest things!”_

_“I had to pull out all the stops, I wouldn’t have needed to do that with just Ryuusui,” Senku powers on, already in tune to what has bothered Gen this entire night, “I literally gave myself an allergic reaction to win over you.”_

_This time, Gen rolls his eyes. “As if you wouldn’t do that in the name of Science, regardless,” he points out, cynical and serious._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Senku groans, rubbing at his nape, the habit no longer forced but natural even after his first ‘death,’ “I don’t like pain or hard labor just like you.”_

_It’s Gen's turn to be unimpressed. Does Senku remember the number of times he willingly put his life on the line? He eyes the dried crimson blood proclaiming that Energy is equal to mass times the speed of light squared. This boy–growing into a young man now, almost breaking into adulthood–will bleed for science, for_ his _Kingdom of Science._

_“Whatever you say, Senku-chan,” Gen says airily, too tired to press on when he already knows it as fact anyway._

_Senku grunts, acknowledging that the topic has to be dropped for now and the pair descends into silence as the moon watches over the gentle lulling of the Pacific Ocean._

_“If it’s not me, it’s you,” Senku says all of a sudden._

_“What?” Gen asks, genuinely confused. He turns to look at Senku only to find intense crimson eyes boring back at him and Gen has to force himself not to look away._

_“Whatever the play is, whatever cards we’re dealt, we have to win no matter what,” Senku tells him, “And if I won’t win, I already know it’s going to be you who will.”_

_Gen blinks at him, trying to absorb what Senku had just said before the scientist grimaces and looks away, the pale moonlight hardly hiding the blush creeping up his nape._

_“Man, you’d think it’s cringy though,” Senku grumbles still turned away from him and Gen has to smile. Perhaps, if it’s to Senku, then he wouldn’t mind being second. A very close second, that is, his pride complains._

_“Very ingy-cray, Senku-chan!”_

_“Heh, ten billion percent, right?”_

-

-

-

-

-

\-----

**_DEAL_ **

\-----

What time is it? He can hardly say, even with the sliver of golden sunlight coming in from above ground in his lone barred window.

Senku had been shot just last night.

Gen was captured soon thereafter and locked into this prison. But for the first time, there is a development in his newfound captivity.

Footsteps approach from the darkness beyond the iron cell that holds him. The door to his cell is opened and in comes two shadowy figures.

“Gen Asagiri,” Dr. Xeno calls out to him.

Behind him, there is a rustle and a scratch, attracting Gen’s attention away from the man who ordered Senku’s murder. There is another soldier behind the scientist, one Gen has seen around but never talked to. The young man scratches at the back of his neck with a grimace—an anxious tic, looking everywhere except at Gen in his cell or Xeno in front of him. Stanley’s replacement bodyguard for their leader in his absence, it would seem. 

Ah, so Stanley Snyder has yet to return from his assassination mission.

“Gen Asagiri,” the scientist in front of his cell repeats, drawing his attention again.

Gen tilts his head, empty eyes looking at Xeno blankly, before his lips draw taut in a smile, distorting the ink across his face that has since started to smear.

“Yes?” he asks, tone airy and light—hollow. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Dr. Xeno?”

There is a squeak behind Xeno from the tone of his voice. Young, easily frightened, the reaction earning him a swift glare from their leader. How this cowardly boy ended up with these murdering men, Gen has little to no interest in, but his mind files the data as if going into overdrive.

Satisfied his soldier will not speak out of turn, Xeno turns back to him. “You are quite an elegant liar, Gen Asagiri,” he says, condescending and scrutinizing, “Good enough to fool my polygraph machine. No wonder Senku Ishigami sent you to spy on me.”

He had expected as much, for the confrontation to come soon enough. Gen keeps his expression neutral, haughty. “Ah, how attering-flay. But I’m afraid you’re wrong about one thing, Dr. Xeno. I came here by choice, not because Senku-chan asked me to.”

“Is that so?” Xeno drawls, causing his own bodyguard to flinch at the ice in his tone. He comes closer to Gen's serenely sitting form, leering over him in the shadows of the dungeon. “Any particular reason they seem so reluctant to leave you behind then?”

Gen narrows his eyes. By now, Tsukasa or Ryuusui should have taken over leadership of the Kingdom of Science. Most likely Ryuusui, as captain of the Perseus. Plus the overhanging pall of guilt and indenture no doubt still hovering over Tsukasa, compounded by the fact that his and his sister’s saviour is now dead under his very protection.

Regardless, both men would no doubt come to the same course of action Senku himself would want—retreat, regroup, and possibly return to Japan to cut their losses at the most minimum.

Saving the world will have to be forgotten in the light of Senku's demise.

Gen flinches inwardly at the reminder, tries not to let the grief show. Instead, he rearranges his face to look innocent, jesting. “You think so highly of me, Doc~!” he feints, grasping for more information, “There’s no way the crew will stay for a traitor like me—”

“Enough!” Xeno cuts him off and Gen clamps his mouth shut at the outburst. They stare each other down, unwilling to be the one to play the next card. Soon enough, Xeno scoffs, turning to the darkness. “Bishop,” he calls out.

A young woman comes from the shadows, red hair tied to a high ponytail, her outfit strikingly similar to Stanley’s. _Another pilot…?_ But before Gen can ponder on this further his attention is stolen by the hostage she drags forward. Gen stands up in alarm, his eyes widening.

Without ceremony, Chrome is shoved forward, sprawling at Gen’s feet, causing him to cough violently on the floor, spittle flying everywhere. The mentalist folds over him in an instant, grabbing him by the shoulders to straighten him, checking for bruises or injury. Finding none, he asks instead, “Kohaku?”

The junior scientist shakes his head vehemently. “I’m fine,” Chrome garbles at him, dodging the question, eyes glinting with intent, “I did what I had to do.”

Gen looks at the younger man in confusion, unable to comprehend or process an appropriate response. Deliberately, Chrome shifts his gaze downward. Deliberately, Gen ignores him, stepping forward to gather him in his arms, shoving Chrome’s face into his shoulder, crumpling to the floor in a dramatic embrace.

“What do you want,” Gen deadpans, glaring at Xeno and his two soldiers. The boy behind the scientist seems to have gotten over his nervous tic, eyes steadily on Gen and Chrome in a way that makes Gen feel naked and exposed. Gen purposefully keeps his hold on Chrome tight at the scrutiny, as if afraid the grinning red-haired young woman would do more harm to him.

Ah, so there is a reason Xeno brought the young soldier with him after all. Gen needs to remember that these are actual adults with real world experience.

Xeno comes forward, blocking his subordinate’s view to Gen’s relief. The scientist reaches out one of his clawed hands that reminds Gen uncomfortably of the snake Ibara, resting the tips of his metal fingers against Gen’s chin.

“You know the depetrification formula.”

It’s not a question. It’s a fact, one Gen is uncomfortably aware of. In his arms, Chrome stiffens and Gen tightens his grip in warning. It wouldn’t do to give away the fact that Chrome is a scientist as well, not after what Xeno did to Senku.

Wait… Is _that_ why Xeno killed Senku?

“How did you know,” Gen grits out through bared teeth.

“Educated guess. Once you have eliminated the impossible, what remains, however improbable, must be truth,” Xeno drawls, waving off Gen’s hostility as he backs away, “Why else would your people come to retrieve you when their scientist just got killed?”

_Come to retrieve?_ So Chrome and Kohaku were not found. Instead, Chrome deliberately made a futile attempt at a fake rescue to… what? He remembers Chrome looking down at their feet and Gen’s quick instinct to cover up his blatant clue.

Ah. Is that so, then?

_If it’s not me, it’s you._

Gen ducks his head. He doesn’t even have to fake it this time, the image of a man cornered. Because if it’s true, if Gen’s hunch is correct then it can only mean one thing— _he_ is being called on to replace Senku’s strategic mind.

And here he was holding on to the very vain hope that Senku had survived.

"If I refuse?"

Xeno frowns at him before glancing at the young woman behind him. "Let me borrow your gun, Bishop."

"N'aww Doc, don't tell me you're gonna hurt this cutie,” the redhead protests, even as a grin settles on her beautiful face.

“ _Bishop._ ”

“Killjoy,” the soldier complains before handing over a revolver to the scientist.

Gen watches as Xeno unloads the gun, handing the bullets over to a scowling Bishop except for one. The mentalist’s eyes widen as he figures out what Xeno means to do, tightening his hold on Chrome as the teen tenses in his arms from Gen’s palpable distress.

“Are you familiar with russian roulette, Gen Asagiri?” Xeno asks casually as he spins the cylinder loaded with a single bullet before snapping it back into place, the redhead soldier grinning with maddened glee at the turn of events, Snyder’s replacement back to being a nervous wreck behind the scientist.

_Shit._

“The probability of firing the gun at the first shot is roughly around 17%” Xeno continues, aiming the gun at the back of Chrome’s head.

“Stop—!”

**_Bang!_ **

“Lucky~!” Bishop squeals with undisguised euphoria as Chrome trembles like a leaf in Gen’s arms, knuckles grip-white against Gen’s _haori_.

Xeno shrugs, “The number increases to 20% on the second attempt.” The gun is aimed again.

“He’s only a child—!”

Another explosive sound. Another flinch from Chrome. Breathing. Trembling. _Alive._

“25%”

“I’ll tell you!” Gen screams in desperation, “I’ll tell you, just stop!”

Xeno finally lowers the gun with a small smile as Gen heaves deep breaths in panic. “I’ll tell you,” he repeats breathlessly, tightening his hold on Chrome before pushing him away, “But he leaves this place alive.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands of me, Gen Asagiri,” Xeno scoffs.

In one quick movement, Gen frees the small knife Senku had gifted him when they first formed their alliance from his sleeves and points the tip of it right where his pulse is pounding restlessly.

“Gen!” Chrome yells in alarm as Xeno’s eyes narrow at him.

“I’m the only one who knows,” Gen claims, his eyes turning to steel with determination, “I’m the only one Senku told it to in case things go wrong. You will let this boy go.”

Xeno considers him for a long moment before scoffing. “Suicide by immolation? How inelegant,” the older scientist complains coming closer to Gen who steps backwards, pressing the knife further into his skin. But with one quick powerful motion, Xeno swats the knife away from Gen’s tight grip, leaving behind a line of blood from where the knife had cut a shallow laceration against Gen’s throat.

Wide cobalt-gray eyes meet darkened black ones in disbelief and fear. “You forget, my partner is an elite man of the military,” Xeno tells Gen as he glowers down at the mentalist, “You tend to pick up a thing or two.”

The gun is suddenly pressed into Gen’s hand, the mentalist fumbling in surprise with it.

“Wha–What—?”

“If you want to make a threat, Gen Asagiri, at least do it in an elegant manner, yes?” Xeno says, “And what’s more elegant than a gamble?”

“Dr. Xeno are you _crazy?_ ” the redhead screeches from behind them.

“Doc, please, if he shoots you the Commander will _kill_ me, oh God, why did you give him a gun—” the younger soldier rambles beside her, speaking up for the first time.

“Don’t worry Mustang, he won’t shoot,” Xeno cuts him off, eyes not leaving Gen for a single second, “Not when we hold the lives of his friends in exchange.”

Insane. This man is certifiably insane, Gen thinks as his knees finally collapse, the gun held loosely in his hands. Xeno tsks at the display and starts walking away.

“Do you understand now, Gen Asagiri?” Xeno looks back at him, “It’s not the strongest or the smartest who will rule this world, but the one who poses the greatest threat. This is why Senku Ishigami had to die.”

“You’re a monster,” Gen seethes.

Xeno only shrugs, his gaze shifting to Chrome, “I shall let your… _friend_ go, if it will make you work more willingly. But remember that we have eyes on your ship. If you defy me again, Gen Asagiri, Senku Ishigami’s blood will not be the only one spilled.”

As one, the trio of Americans leave Gen’s cell. Chrome scrambles to his feet, “Gen, what happened, what was he babbling about? Hey, you okay?”

Gen doesn’t stop trembling, “Senku—? Is he really—?”

Chrome’s grip on Gen’s shoulders tighten, “I’m sorry, Gen. That’s why I had to risk coming here and…” The younger scientist shuffles his feet around in the wet earth that made up the floor of Gen’s cell. There, barely noticeable, was a glint of silver. Chrome must have hidden it there during the whole thing.

Gen takes a moment to admire Chrome’s tenacity and presence of mind before reaching out to grab the silver glint from the floor, immediately recognizing it for what it is, hiding it beside the gun inside his sleeves. Only one bullet and a threat against his friends as a safety latch.

“We need you Gen, that’s why I had to come, we need our mentalist,” Chrome tells him.

“Oi, up and about you two, enough with the lovers schmuck, it’s disgusting,” the muscled lady who guards Gen’s cell has returned, “Doc says one of you’s gotta go.”

Gen glares at her before standing up and offering Chrome a hand. “It’s time for you to go now, then.”

“Gen…?”

“Hey, I said, _enough!”_

“There’s no time to explain. Come on,” Gen insists, breathing a sigh of relief when Chrome doesn’t put up much more of a fight. The lady soldier gives an approving grunt before turning away, the two following her wordlessly.

It’s early twilight, Gen finally realizes when they reach the entrance of the castle and his guard opens the door to the cool evening air. It’s been roughly eighteen hours since Ishigami Senku was shot. There, beyond the dips of the earth, and the stretch of forest, his body is taken care of by an entire crew awaiting _Gen’s_ commands.

He wants to tell them to leave. To tell them to leave him behind. _But that won’t do now, would it?_ _If it’s not you, it’s me, right, Senku-chan?_

“Alright then, time for you to go,” the lady soldier pushes Chrome out of the castle none too gently.

“Hey!”

“Chrome,” Gen interrupts, “It’ll be fine.”

The younger scientist gives him a long hard look, before nodding once. With a final glare at the American soldier, he turns and starts walking away. Gen doesn’t move an inch until Chrome is safely out of his eyesight, his arms locked and covered by the sleeves of his _haori_.

A heavy hand drops into his shoulder, turning him away forcefully, as if trying to stop him from running after Chrome. But that’s fine, like Chrome said, he had already achieved what he came here to do. Inside his sleeve, Gen fiddles with the transmitter Chrome had delivered right into the floor of his cell. Before the doors had closed, he had already sent his first message.

_1 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 //_

-

-

Gen closes his eyes.

_1 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1/ 1 / 4 / 1 / 1 //_

_1 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 //_

The table is set. This time, it’s not the casino tables he’s used to, no dealer, no deck. This time, it’s tiles and pieces.

_5 / 8 / 1 / 3 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 //_

_5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 1 //_

_3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 5 / 8 //_

The Perseus stands on one end, its kingpiece toppled down, trapped by the crowned piece with a wicked gun. Gen tries not dwell on it too much, shifting his attention to the other pieces on the board requiring his attention.

_1 / 4 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 //_

_1 / 2 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 //_

Kohaku and Chrome should have been reunited by now. At the Perseus, Ryuusui has most likely taken over leadership. The question now is what Senku would have done between getting updated about Gen’s infiltration and being contacted by Xeno.

_1 / 4 / 1 / 3 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 4 //_

Just as Xeno wanted to cripple their team by taking out their Science Leader, the most logical course of action for the Perseus is to do the same. A team then, led by their strongest. Tsukasa is freely moving across the board. And who else…?

_5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 //_

_5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 2 / 6 / 2 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 1 //_

The only one who can match Tsukasa for strength. Hyouga. With Kohaku and her inhuman eyesight already on the board, Senku only needed to send their other general with supernatural senses—Ukyo.

_If it’s not me, it’s you._

Gen sighs. Well then. Hopefully someone from the other side of this transmitter figured out the code. It isn’t perfect, but as long as it gets the message across…

_1 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 2 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 //_

Now then, what would Senku do?

-

-

-

-

-

\-----

**_FLOP_ **

\-----

“Are we getting anything?”

“I’m not entirely sure… Whose idea was it to direct Gen’s communications here anyway? Ukyo or Chrome would have been a better choice!”

“We can’t risk exposing our own team out there, Miss Reporter. It’s bad enough we have to expose Chrome and Kohaku as it is. Now then, what do you mean you’re not sure?”

“There have been a series of morse code phrases sent earlier. It was the same pattern of numbers. At first I tried deciphering it with the english alphabet but then it didn’t make sense.”

“Gen wouldn’t use a cipher our enemies would be able to understand.”

An eyeroll. “Well I figured that out eventually. But even with our ciphers, the numbers just make up random syllables!”

“Which ciphers are we talking about?”

“Since we don’t have any communication, I thought Gen would go for the most simple. Here.”

“The _Iroha_ cipher? Ro. Na. Ro. I. I. I. What?!”

“Exactly! That’s why I thought maybe we were just getting interference instead of actual morse. But then, the numbers changed. Every line became different.”

“I. Sa. I. I. Ni. I. Brother? Ro-Na-I-Ni. Nine? Wait, why is there an eight here?!”

“I don’t know! That’s why I second-guessed about the _Iroha_ cipher because it doesn’t cover the number eight! So right now I'm back to having nothing!”

“Aaaarrrghhhh, Gen!!! Why must you make things so damn difficult!!”

“We don’t even know if it’s Gen in the first place, it really could just be random dots and dashes.”

“No, it’s definitely him and the clue is in here somewhere. We just have to figure it out. Ro. Na. Ro. I. I. I. I. Sa—”

“Master Ryuusui, pardon the interruption.”

"Nonsense Francois, any help would be appreciated right now.”

“Yes please, I am seriously at my wits end here.”

“I actually think you were on the right track, Miss Minami. I was listening to Master Ryuusui recite the deciphered code and to me it sounded like he was counting.”

“What? Ro. Na. Ro. I. I. I—”

“Six. Seven. Six. One. One. One.”

“HOLY SHIT THAT ACTUALLY MAKES SENSE! Francois! You are a genius!”

“Ahem. It was simply thanks to Master Ryuusui’s recitation that brings back memories. Unfortunately it doesn’t solve the mystery of the number eight.”

“Oh. Crap.”

“Wait, if we use the _Iroha_ cipher again, the repeating lines at the beginning make up a word!"

“Shi-a-i. _Shiai._ A match? As in a game?”

“Yes, Master Ryuusui. Specifically, it is the word used for card games or board games, such as chess.”

“...Chess…CHESS! Francois!! You genius!!”

“I—Thank you?”

“You figured it out?!”

“Yes but there are still some holes to fill. The _Iroha_ cipher isn’t perfect because it does lack some syllables but it seems Gen has figured out a way around it. Might be a hit and miss, but I do have a vague idea.”

“Then?”

“Don’t worry captain, I’ll have you our strategist’s plans in no time.”

-

-

_5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 //_

_5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 4 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 //_

_5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 //_

_5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 3 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 //_

_1 / 2 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 7 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 2 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 //_

...that’s going to be questionable but they left the strategizing to him. And lastly—

_6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 //_

-

-

“Tsukasa.”

Well that’s not what they had agreed on, Tsukasa thinks irritably.

Ryuusui’s voice cracks under the new frequency. They have to change every so often now to avoid Xeno’s surveillance. Frankly, it irritates Tsukasa to no end, this is why he insisted on choosing the people to revive in the first place.

But then again, people like this evil scientist managed to revive on their own just like Senku did.

“Hm. We copy,” he answers anyway because while Ryuusui can be brash, he knows how to think things through.

“I have our first commands. The sniper must be eliminated. As it is, the Perseus is nothing more than a sitting duck as we conduct repairs.”

Sure Ryuusui, just announce the plan to the Americans listening in. Wait—Repairs? _Ah._

“The plan?”

“A pincer. He can’t move from his position right now and I need the power team to stay with me. We will need two from your end to pin him down.”

Beside him, Hyouga frowns disapprovingly at the giveaway information should the Americans be listening in but Tsukasa waves him off.

“Understood. Captain?”

“Yes?”

“Senku?”

There is an exhausted sigh from the other end. “...taken care of. The rest will have to wait.”

“Alright. Two of my team headed back your way.”

“Good. Stay safe. Perseus out.”

Tsukasa closes the receiver.

“They still would have gotten wind of that,” Hyouga comments derisively.

Tsukasa only shrugs, “Hm. I’m sure.”

“Ha! What then?” Kohaku questions, “Is there actually a plan to follow?”

Tsukasa thinks it over, weighs what he knows of Ryuusui, and what he knows of Gen. What he thinks is the right move right now. They had all agreed that Gen’s direct line be connected to the Perseus, if only to hide the fact that another team had been sent out to capture the enemy’s leader. And yet Gen, and consequently, Ryuusui, had blatantly exposed the existence of Tsukasa’s team, essentially making them targets as well—

_Ah._ So that’s how it is.

Two from his end. One who can pinpoint a sniper. Another who can match a soldier's strength.

“Hm. There is,” Tsukasa says finally, “We are following Ryuusui’s orders. Hyouga and Ukyo, head back to the Perseus and block off the sniper.”

-

-

“Do you copy that Stan?”

_“Loud and clear, we’ll be ready.”_

“Good. Update me.”

_“Of course. Out.”_

The line goes dead and Xeno looks at the Japanese man in his communications chamber.

“Now then, any idea what this plan of theirs is?”

“Should I have an idea?” Asagiri asks innocently.

“Here I was thinking maybe I would have Stan spare the children who would even think they could take him down,” Xeno mocks back.

Asagiri’s eyes narrow as he frowns, his fists clenched at his sides. Truly, how these children think they could have done anything against a global superpower is beyond him. Then again, Senku Ishigami at the age of seven had already been a scientific force to be reckoned with, what more if he had left it unchecked?

How regrettable, yet necessary. Leading the new world order was never meant to be easy after all.

He comes down from his chair, coming closer to where Asagiri is glowering at him. “Well then, Mr. Spy, what could your little friends be planning?”

“You already heard them, a pincer attack—”

Xeno waves a hand irritably, cutting him off. “We are beyond that piece of knowledge. What I want are the details. Numbers. What is this Power Team they spoke of? Should I pick them off one by one or maybe just fire a couple of warning shots?”

Asagiri grits his teeth, coming to a decision at the threat. “The Power Team is a group that serves as our defense. Which is why our captain can’t spare any now that Stanley has them pinned down.”

“And this Tsukasa? Should he be considered a threat.”

Asagiri scowls before he turns away, “Yes.”

“Well then,” Xeno paces around the room thinking, “Should Stanley be enough or should I send some support? No matter, at this point a show of force might be necessary to convince you lot to surrender. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Asagiri?”

“They’re only barely adults. You already killed our leader. I already agreed to give you the depetrification formula. What more do you want?” Asagiri hisses at him, eyes flashing with barely restrained fury.

“A world where I rule cannot be questioned, Mr. Asagiri,” Xeno tells him offhandedly, “And for that, I will trample down any resistance if I must.”

He turns to the bodyguard Stanley had assigned to him when he left. There’s not much the young man can do here anyway, not with Asagiri being a threat only to himself and his comrades. “Mustang, you are to leave and provide Stanley with back-up.”

“Sir!” the boy trembles, “My orders were—”

“I know what your orders were. These are your new ones. Take it up with Stanley,” Xeno waves off.

The boy freezes stiff at the mention of his commander’s name. “I—Of course, Dr. Xeno. Sir.” He does a tense salute and leaves the communications room.

Xeno is left alone with Asagiri when the door closes. He turns to his prisoner. “You’re hiding something from me,” he tells the man flatly.

Asagiri, to his credit, doesn’t falter. “And why would I risk doing that?”

They stare at each other for a long moment, Xeno trying to figure out what exactly it is that Asagiri is planning, the other unyielding and—dare he say it?—spitefully honest.

“We’ll crush your little ship soon, whether you like it or not, Mr. Spy,” Xeno tells him as he descends from his perch, coming closer to where Asagiri hardly even flinches, “Whatever you’ve got, it will be nothing in the face of what we can do.”

Asagiri sniffs derisively. “You have an awful lot of faith in Snyder alone, don’t you, Doc,” he obfuscates, tone neutral.

Throw the man a bone, he supposes. “Of course,” Xeno answers easily, “We’ve been together my whole life.”

“How omantic-ray~” Asagiri says drily.

Xeno smirks. “Indeed,” he confirms to which Asagiri gapes at him at the easy admission. He waves off Asagiri’s shock, turning back to his chair to monitor the situation. “Make of that what you will, Gen Asagiri.”

-

-

Stanley relaxes his hold on the trigger. His hands are itching to reach for a smoke but he ignores it in favor of observing the clearing he had Carlos and Max place themselves in.

Like this, his back is to the sun, the light exposing several meters beyond the treeline opposite his vantage point. He can easily drop down to any approaching threat, or see it clearly from where he is perched.

The transmission they tapped took him a little bit by surprise. When that Dr. Senku was alive, they were pretty much alert on cutting down communications to limit information leakage. But now that Stanley's eliminated him, the group seems to have grown sloppy.

It doesn't make him lower his guard though.

For what that they're still just children, he does admire their fighting instinct and tenacity. One had to wonder what they gain from sticking around, now that Stanley has sniped their leader dead.

A mere child. Then again, war is war. More than that, Stanley would do anything to have Xeno's dreams be realized.

For Xeno, he can do anything. Including eliminating a group of young foreigners who thought they stood a chance against professionals. If his hands are to be dirtied so Xeno can continue building this world with his, so be it.

His musings are interrupted by a whistling sound that cuts through the air followed by a dull thwack as Max is pinned to a nearby tree by an arrow.

Archery, huh? How primitive. And yet he can easily pick out the fact that whoever it was aimed exactly for Max's collar so he won't get injured. Who were these kids, seriously?

Well, it doesn't matter. The arrow is already too much of a giveaway.

The shot was released from the east. Judging from the angle, the archer has to be somewhere roughly a bit lower than his own vantage point. With the wind blowing from the coast in a constant lull during this dreary afternoon, an arrow flying opposite the calm wind with that much force, assuming a simple shortbow was used, then perhaps, fifteen...twelve? meters from where Carlos is screaming his head off as he tries to free Max.

There is a slight rustle of a branch to the left of the clearing.

"Right," he murmurs, "Time to catch some rats."

Hefting the sniper rifle, a smaller one than what he used against Dr. Senku, Stanley shifts, aims, fires, and hits—a hat?

There is a shout of Japanese and in that instant he knows he’s been compromised. _Shit._ In the next second, he has pushed off the branch landing with the smallest possible noise into the dense foliage below—only to bring up his rifle to defend in an instant.

“Well, well, what killer instinct you have,” he drawls, glancing back to find a head of silver hair, half of his opponent’s face covered in a mask. The other man grunts in acknowledgement before he whirls again, aiming his weapon right at Stanley.

_Dodge,_ his instincts scream instead of blocking again and a good thing too, because his block would have been useless with how the spear had come closer to his face. He smirks as he gets to his feet, tracing the line of blood from the small cut on his cheek the Japanese man managed to land.

“Not bad, boy,” he praises despite himself.

The silver haired man grunts before he says in halting english, “Not boy.” He twirls his spear before thrusting, forcing Stanley to dodge again. And then duck gracelessly to the side as an arrow misses him by a hair’s breadth. _Shit. I forgot about the archer._

“Carlos!” he roars, “Distract the archer!”

There is an answering shriek as another whistle of an arrow cutting through the air sounds to his right, just as he dodge rolls again to avoid another incoming thrust. _He’s drawing me away from the two,_ he realizes. Smart. At this range too, his rifle is really only dead weight rather than useful. Not that he can fight this kid anyway. His instincts are good but not as good as say, Mustang’s. He can’t predict where that spear is going to land.

Well then, what to do?

Another whistle. The arrow is easier to dodge this time. More importantly…

Stanley rolls, farther away from the silver haired man. _Southeast. Six feet up. There._ Without giving the silver haired man time to catch up to him, he fires three successive shots from his rifle and is rewarded with a pained yell.

“Ukyo!” he hears the silver haired man shout.

“Don’t look away from your opponent, boy!” he shouts as he discards his smoking rifle hastily onto the ground, grabbing the dagger hidden in his boot. In one motion, he steps into the range of the silver haired man, within the length of his spear. Can’t attack, can’t defend. The silver haired man sweeps into a kick instead.

An all-rounder then. Who _were_ these kids?! The spear cuts into his forearm as he parries sloppily before grabbing the silver haired man’s wrist with his free arm, dragging him forward. The boy plants his feet into the ground, locking them into a stalemate, but Stanley launches into a kick that lands a satisfying crunch against what was now most definitely a broken nose.

The boy staggers backward but Stanley is on him in an instant, dagger glinting dangerously in the afternoon sun, reflecting into the eyes of his opponent. The boy roars something in japanese and in the next heartbeat, Stanley finds himself disarmed and flying towards a tree trunk. The spear follows, unpredictable in its trajectory.

_Shit. Xeno—_

There is a sudden crack of wood as the spear is repelled. When he opens his eyes, the silver haired boy has retreated, cradling a broken spear and a broken nose. In front of him, Mustang stands, his _tonfa_ already out and raised in a defensive position. _Speak of the devil..._

“Are you alright, Sir?” his subordinate murmurs, not taking his eyes off the silver haired boy.

“Yeah,” he answers, standing up and dusting himself off.

His earpiece crackles. _“Stan? What happened?”_

“I have it covered,” he answers, side eyeing Mustang who is still focused on their opponent, noticing the assault rifle he has strapped against his back, “You sent Mustang.”

_“Looks like he made it just in time.”_

Stanley swallows down the reprimand for both Xeno and Mustang disobeying his direct command. He owes his life to Xeno’s foresight after all. “Yeah,” he murmurs, “Yeah he did—”

Whatever he was going to say is cut by a lancing pain on the left side of his face.

_“Commander!”_

He can barely hear Mustang’s shout over the ringing of his ears. He looks to his left and sees a pink-haired woman, with a frowning pout and angry eyes, her knife bloody from the slash she just did that cut off his communications with Xeno, just underneath his ear, curving towards his jaw.

_How did she—_

His eyes narrow at a glint of metal and he grabs Mustang by the collar of his shirt. _“Duck!”_ he screams even as he pulls his subordinate down to the ground with him and jumps away just as another spear comes hurtling in their direction.

Stanley looks up just in time to see the silver haired man catch the spear that missed them. From the treeline, another woman with translucent clothes emerges, alongside a man with his hair in dreadlocks tied to a low ponytail. He seethes as the newcomer talks in a mocking, knowing voice, just before the silver haired man shushes him down with a swing of his spear.

“Mustang,” he murmurs, applying pressure on the laceration in the line of his jaw, “Hand me the machine gun.”

“Oh,” Mustang startles, as if he had forgotten about the dead weight against his back, which is probably not far off, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Think you can take on at least one of them?”

“Two,” Mustang answers without hesitation, “Maybe three.”

The spear is swung in their direction again. A threat. Stanley can’t help but grin. Through the steadily numbing pain, his mind is clear. His blood is pounding loudly in his ears. It’s been 3,700 years since he’s had to go all out, but his body can recognize the thrill of a fight all the same.

“Alright kids, give me your best shot.”

-

-

“Stan? Stan!!”

_1 / 3 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 //_

Gen watches as Xeno tries to re-establish contact with his lover, soldier, friend, bodyguard or whatever the hell Snyder was to this scientist. For Gen, it’s enough. Someone understood his instructions and carried them out perfectly, his fingers already going rapid fire sending the next set of instructions, mind working overdrive to translate it into code.

_1 / 4 / 3 / 7 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 //_

Ugh. Why did he have to make things so damn difficult? _He is running out of time._ Everything that happens from now on, will have to be carried out by the pieces on the board. Gen has to trust that they will know the right thing to do, or that someone, maybe one other general or even Tsukasa will be able to pick up where he ends.

_5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 3 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 1 / 2 //_

“Bishop!” Xeno roars, “Tell Brody to go after Stanley! Take the Hydra and provide cover!”

The other pilot smirks, “Is that a free pass Doc?”

_“I don’t care who dies, Bishop, bring him back alive!”_

The red-haired soldier stifles a laugh before doing a snappy salute and rushing out of the communications room. Xeno turns sharply at Gen’s direction, eyes glinting with rage, more alive than Gen has seen him so far.

_3 / 7 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 2 / 1 / 4 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 4 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 //_

_Stall,_ his mind shouts in panic, _We are_ not _done._ Xeno grabs him by the front of his shirt. _“What did you do?”_ the scientist hisses at him.

Gen forces his face to remain neutral, keeping his hands together in his _haori_ sleeves to hide the transmitter. _Stall, stall, stall,_ his mind chants.

_5 / 8 / 6 / 2 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 4 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 1 / 6 / 2 / 3 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 1 / 2 / 6 / 2 / 1 / 3 / 5 / 8 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 1 / 4 / 1 / 1 / 3 / 7 //_

“I did tell you doctor, you have too much faith in Snyder—"

Xeno is practically screaming, “If _anything_ happens to him, Dr. Senku is the least of your worries—"

_1 / 1 / 3 / 7 / 5 / 8 / 3—_

The older man suddenly stops. This is Gen’s first mistake: in his haste to deliver his instructions to the Kingdom of Science, he forgets to make sure Xeno has taken his headphones off. The scientist’s other hand comes up to hold his earpiece closer before his eyes shift back to Gen in understanding.

_Shit._

He is sent flying before he is caught in the sturdy arms of his bodyguard. “Pat him down!” Xeno commands.

Gen brings his hands up in a universal gesture of surrender. In his right hand, he is holding the transmitter, Xeno’s eyes fixated in its silver glint. “No need,” he says drily, pressing a final sequence before tossing it to Xeno.

_1 //_

The scientist catches it effortlessly, just before realization strikes him. “That boy…”

Gen shrugs, “He did what needed to be done.”

Xeno’s face falls flat, as opposed to the incensed rage that was painted across his features. His eyes are blank obsidian, and Gen almost physically feels the room drop several degrees as the scientist comes closer. He grabs Gen’s chin in his hand.

“I should kill you for your audacity to hurt my partner,” Xeno says coldly.

“Do it,” Gen hisses back at him. This has always been the endgame after all. From the beginning, Gen had no plans of returning to the Perseus—or at least, returning _alive._ There… wasn’t any reason to, not anymore.

“Now where would the fun be in that, Gen Asagiri?” the scientist drawls. In the next instant, he backhands Gen, sending him sprawling onto the floor. The transmitter is dropped next to him before Xeno crushes it under his boot.

“I thought you were much more useful as a resource. But now I see, you can be nothing little more than _bait,”_ Xeno practically spits at him and Gen turns his eyes away, hoping against hope that the Perseus figures out the rest of the plan without Gen explicitly telling them to leave _him._

Xeno turns to the muscled woman who acts as Gen’s bodyguard. “He stays here,” he orders, “Restrain him.”

Gen doesn’t put up a fight as he is dragged to a corner of a room, his hands bound behind him. This is it then, the rest is up to the others now.

_Time’s up._

-

-

-

-

-

\------

**_TURN_ **

\------

“There,” Nikki huffs as she finishes tying the makeshift bandage on Ukyo’s thigh, “You’re lucky the graze isn’t as deep as I initially thought.”

“Thanks,” Ukyo says, a little sheepish, looking at the rest of the party that caught up with him. Yo is picking at his ear, sporting a bruise at the side of his head, no doubt from Nikki, considering that Magma is sporting an identical one.

Behind them, the two Americans who were with the sniper are knocked unconscious and tied together. He’ll have to figure out what to do with them soon. That said, he finally looks again at the thing that caught his attention since Nikki and the two guys showed up.

“What’s that?” he finally asks, referring to the pretty hefty pointed steel Magma was carrying.

“Dunno,” the man complains, “Captain just said that the magician told me I should bring this and find you.”

_Huh._ He doesn’t know where they go from here. Hyouga had been separated from him after he’d been shot. There must be something more… well, there’s only one person he can ask anyway.

“Nikki, how does Gen send out his commands?”

The girl stops in the middle of packing their supplies, confused. “I thought the messages go through you guys?”

Ukyo grimaces. “Not exactly. Chrome had to re-outfit our radio into a relay station because the transmitter he created from smaller parts wouldn’t reach the Perseus.”

“Then wouldn’t it have been better for just you guys to get his messages?”

He shakes his head. “We were too close. The Americans would have been able to pick up the transmission easily and much sooner if we stopped the signal with us.”

“...alright,” Nikki says doubtfully, “I’m going to say that makes sense. Minami-chan said Gen uses the _Iroha_ cipher, but a bit more complicated than that? He’s been giving her a headache.”

“Anyone would have a headache if your spy tells you to get _tofu,_ ” Yo snorts.

“Tofu?” Ukyo asks, eyebrows shooting up.

Nikki sighs. “That was the last sequence Gen sent out. That’s why we’re just waiting around here, because we don’t know what _tofu_ even means.”

Ukyo’s train of thought is interrupted by rapid fire shots. Immediately, Magma, Nikki, and Yo stand up trying to trace the source of the sound. _An assault rifle?_ Ukyo thinks in panic. Hyouga is in danger, even someone like him can’t fight against military grade weapons.

He stands in a hurry, nursing his bad leg, “We have to—”

“Ukyo?”

Whatever he was about to say is forgotten as his ears pick up another sound, distant, but coming closer. Fast. A rock drops to the pit of Ukyo’s stomach as he realizes in an instant what it is.

_Wait. Iroha. A plane. The steel rod in Magma’s hands. Gen’s command to find him. Iroha. Tofu. It’s not supposed to be—Wait—_ Shit!

“Yo!” he calls to the former policeman, “Hand me your gun!”

“What?” Yo complains, “Why would I do that?”

“Give it to him, you useless asshole!” Nikki roars at him.

“Because I’m going to ask you to do something even more important!” Ukyo placates, “I need you to run back to the Perseus. Take the prisoners with you.”

“But I just _got here.”_

Nikki cracks her knuckles, “You wanna try whining again, you glorified beanpole?” At the threat, Yo gulps before handing the gun over to Ukyo with much grumbling.

“If it’s so important, why don’t you let me do it, I’m _much more_ reliable,” Magma gloats.

“Say that again you _dimwitted—!”_

“No,” Ukyo says, cutting off a strip of cloth, writing with his blood shakily as he explains, “If I understand Gen right, there’s a reason you’re here with me. Besides—” he hands the torn cloth to Yo, “—I need someone who knows _hiragana_ to explain it to Minami and Ryuusui.”

“What?”

“The _Iroha_ cipher isn’t perfect, it doesn’t cover the _dakuten_ ,” Ukyo explains patiently even as he hears the sound of airplane rotors coming closer, “He didn’t mean to send _tofu,_ he just didn’t have a choice.”

Yo’s eyes widen as he takes in the characters Ukyo wrote down. “This is—”

“Gen’s real message. _Tobu,_ ” Ukyo says gravely, just as the plane passes overhead them, ignoring Magma and Nikki’s surprised exclamations, _“Fly.”_

-

-

Hyouga takes cover behind a tree trunk as the American lets loose another volley of bullets. He can’t even get close, the smallfry beside the pilot has some supernatural senses or something, like what would happen if the blonde chick and Ukyo were put together in one body. He’d be able to detect even Homura from miles away now that the pilot' cornered them.

There’s only one thing to do then.

“We need to rush him,” he says over the loud gunfire.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Kirisame shouts back, incensed, the gunshot wound on her shoulder probably the reason for her hostility.

“All guns run out of bullets,” Homura comments quietly beside him.

“So we just wait until this guy stops?” Mozu complains.

Hyouga raises an eyebrow at him as if asking him if he has any better ideas, making the other man scowl and look away. “It will be quick,” he instructs when he hears no other complaints, “We’ll have to strike fast.”

It won’t be long, he thinks, grip tightening on his spear. Just as he predicted, the shots sputter out. The moment the last shot isn’t followed in a second, Hyouga sprints out from behind the tree, lunging forward—and promptly stops in alarm.

The other soldier is nowhere to be found, only the blonde American pilot who smiles beatifically, “Gotcha, boy.”

The American raises his machine gun again just as Hyouga shouts, “Take cover!” Homura is quick, already right by the treeline, while Kirisame somersaults to retreat. But before the shooting can begin again, another volley of bullets come raining down from the sky.

“Hyouga-sama!” Homura screams.

Hyouga manages to roll out of the way, looks up just in time to see the plane that appeared out of nowhere flying by. When he looks to the middle of the field, he sees Mozu’s unconscious body, blood pooling out from beneath his legs. Gods _damn_ it.

The American lowers his gun. “Look kid, it’s nothing personal,” he drawls towards Hyouga’s direction, “Xeno gets overprotective sometimes. Didn’t expect him to send out the Hydra, though. A little overkill, don’t you think?”

Hyouga grits his teeth at him. He doesn’t understand what the heck the American just said, but the unaffected tone raises his hackles. In the middle of the clearing, Mozu groans in pain. _Still alive._

“Well then, boy,” the American calls his attention again, tilting his head towards Mozu’s direction, “You gonna save your friend?”

He can’t get Mozu. Not with that gun in the American’s hands. But if he doesn’t move, that plane will come circling back soon.

Which is easier, outrunning an assault rifle? Or a plane? Hyouga clenches his jaw and makes his decision, launching himself towards Mozu.

“Good,” he hears the American murmur, hears the gun being placed against a shoulder, the tell tale sound of a cartridge clicking into place.

The successive rounds lick at his feet as he tries to grab Mozu before another, louder shot rings out from the opposite side of the clearing.

Hyouga manages to grab Mozu, dragging the other man with him as he rolls onto the shade of the treeline. He can hear swearing from the American and the panicked shout of his subordinate who appeared from behind the tree.

He almost lashes out when a hand gently tugs at his shoulder, but it’s only Nikki. “Let me see him,” she says gently but firmly, a medic pack at her hip.

“How did you get here?” he grits out.

“Gen told us to come,” she says absently, her face pale but her hands are sure as she cleans out Mozu’s wound. “He’s lucky he’s got defined muscles, the bullet went through but at least it didn’t hit bone.”

Hyouga tsks. “Well Gen better have a plan about how to deal with a freaking fighter plane,” he grumbles.

Nikki raises an eyebrow at him. “I think he does,” she says flatly, gesturing to his left. There, behind another tree trunk, Ukyo is still holding the singular revolver they have. Behind him, the simpleminded brute– _Magma?_ –is carrying what looks like a javelin.

Hyouga is suddenly struck by a very specific memory. Wherein he mistook Senku’s gunpowder gambit as an actual gun just because _someone_ threw a rock with almost the same damn intensity and power, but none of the accuracy.

And it all comes together in his head.

He’s not looking at Nikki when he says, “Gen is _insane.”_

-

-

“Are you sure about this?” Kaseki mumbles worriedly as he tries to keep in pace with the taller man striding purposefully beside him, “We really just patched this up as best as we can, and you—”

Ryuusui snaps his fingers, “Don’t worry Master Kaseki. We can’t say just no when our strategist calls for it, hm?”

Kaseki gives a sigh. “And are _you_ sure about this?”

Ryuusui smirks at him before lifting his gaze, “Of course, in these circumstances, there’s only one person who should fly her.”

A smirk is shared, an exchange of handshakes. After final checks, the engine is running smoothly and the Harpy is attached to the makeshift catapult that will launch it into the air.

“You better take care of her, alright?” Kaseki warns one final time.

He is given a thumbs up. And with that, Kaseki releases the lever and the Harpy, now property of the Kingdom of Science, launches into the air.

-

-

Stanley scowls. He knew the archer had a marksman's ability, he just didn’t know he was _this_ good, pressing a hand against the deep graze on his bicep. The shot would have honestly lodged into his arm if he hadn’t been fast enough. The archer at least, he can confidently say had military training from the looks of it.

As long as the marksman held that gun, he’s risking an incapacitating injury. Not fatal, the shots weren’t designed to kill. But he can’t even estimate how many more shots they have and if they did have enough, he’s risking bleeding to death regardless of how harmless their intentions are.

Mustang hasn’t left his side, already pale and stuttering from the amount of injuries Stanley is now sporting. Not that it’s the worst he’s had but Mustang was still new to his squad when the petrification happened. He’s still basically a kid.

Overhead, their primary advantage is circling around again. Carol Bishop is a skilled pilot, almost at par with Stanley, if she could only rein in her enthusiasm for battle a little bit. The Hydra lets loose a line of heavy artillery fire against the edges of the treeline.

“Come on, you cowards, ‘fraid of a little ol’ airplane?!” she crows as she flies past.

When he gets back, he’ll have to have a little talk with Xeno about disarming the Hydra just a little bit. This is now a battle of attrition, so he’ll have to wait it out, he thinks as he slumps against the tree trunk. The sun is starting to set, painting the treeline golden. It won’t be long. Only the marksman is anywhere near military, while he and Mustang have broken out of petrification through willpower, lying in wait.

Before the sun rises tomorrow, they’ll be rid of these intruders and Stanley can go home.

Then he hears it, the unmistakable hum of an airplane’s engine. Not just any engine, either. He can recognize the Harpy from the many times he’s flown it since Xeno built it.

There, a blurred shape against the setting sun. _His_ plane.

“Bishop!” he roars at the top of his lungs, “Behind you!”

He dodges at the next second as another shot rings out, before he realizes that it was intended to miss. He tsks. How did they manage to get the Harpy running again?! Did they have another scientist?!

“Mustang, listen to me,” he grunts, “You have to run back to Xeno.”

“What? But Sir! You’re injured!” his subordinate protests.

He grabs Mustang by his shoulders. “This is nothing! Do you understand?” he growls, “Someone has to tell Xeno, they have another scien—”

No.

“Sir?”

No, they don’t have another scientist, he realizes as he looks up to the Harpy tailing the Hydra. That’s not possible. They scrambled as soon as he shot Senku Ishigami, but he’s yet to have confirmation of his death when he had to leave his perch after the tapped transmission of the pincer attack.

_Holy shit,_ he realizes, his eyes going wide with disbelief.

“Sir? Are you alright?” Mustang asks, genuinely concerned now.

“They’re going to bring that plane down,” he says absently.

“What! That’s not possible!” Mustang says in horror, “Is the other bird armed?!”

“No, if _he’s_ anything like what Xeno feared, then _he’s_ stripped the Harpy of any artillery.”

“Who’s _he?”_

Stanley looks back to the sky. He doesn’t know how they’ll do it, but it’s not going to be very efficient. Bishop is a good enough pilot to keep the Hydra in the air, at least until the river. Then, he’ll just have to finish the job.

“Go to Xeno,” he orders, booking no room for argument, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, “Tell him Senku Ishigami is alive.”

-

-

Ukyo watches as the plane they brought down and repaired doggedly trails after the American’s bulkier and heavier plane. Ryuusui really is a talented navigator, extending his talents to piloting planes it seems.

But with the way it’s going, he’s not sure how they’re going to pull off what Gen envisioned. He looks beside him to where Magma is practically huffing with nervous energy. They only have one shot, so he ignores the stinging pain of his leg and focuses on the dogfight in the air and on their opponent on the other side of the treeline, what he can hear of them anyway.

Rushing. Feet trampling the underfoot as they flee.

“Hyouga! One of them is retreating!” he yells to the fighter, who nods to the order side of the clearing.

He can pick the slightest notes of Homura’s footfalls and Kirisame’s heavier but no less softer footsteps. Opposite him, he can hear the American pilot breathing heavily. He can tell that his first shot landed, but he’s not sure if it was enough to disable the pilot’s dominant arm. Probably not, if he’s sending away his only support.

He looks back to where Hyouga is crouched beside Nikki and an unconscious Mozu. He tilts his head towards the American and a palm, telling him as best as he can to wait for his signal.

Ukyo doesn’t have to wait long. In the air, the other plane rises up, practically vertical, the Harpy overshooting its opponent. Ryuusui does a sharp turn that causes the Harpy to wobble unsteadily, the other plane following swiftly after.

The Harpy dodges as the other plane lets loose a series of shots, trying its best to evade, flying low on the treetops. _This is our chance,_ he thinks.

“Magma,” he murmurs, eyes and ears trained solely on the two planes approaching.

“Showtime?” the other man grins, lifting the sharp javelin Gen had made.

Ukyo nods subtly, still intently focused on the planes coming closer, distantly aware of Hyouga’s laser focus on his palm still held up. He shifts his glance for a second to Magma.

“Lower your shoulders a bit, no, too much,” he instructs lowly, “Lift your grip more. Alright. Just throw it as hard as you can, I’ll help guide your arm.”

Thankfully the Stone Age man doesn’t put up much argument, already probably aware deep down that he can’t aim for shit. Ukyo looks up. The Harpy is closer now, a wing sporting some bullet holes but still flying with a purpose, its wheels almost touching the treeline.

And then, her nose breaches the clearing, the other plane hot at her tail.

“Now!” Ukyo shouts, jumping right behind Magma.

Hyouga rushes out of the treeline directly towards the American to discourage enemy fire on their javelin thrower. They only have a very small window of time, Ukyo hopes it won’t be enough for the American to shoot Hyouga dead.

In the next heartbeats, several things happen in quick succession.

Ukyo adjusts Magma’s aim before shouting, _“Go!”_ The taller man throws the javelin with all his might, sending it flying right towards the other plane’s left wing engine, hitting true, causing it to tilt dangerously low on one side. On the other side of the field, the American pilot sprints out of the treeline and rushes to meet Hyouga head on.

Hyouga thrusts with his spear, only for the American pilot to push it away mercilessly with his assault rifle, lifting his gun and bringing it down hard to the back of Hyouga’s head. He uses the momentum and the gun as a lever to kick himself up on Hyouga’s back, launching his body in the air to kick again against the tree trunk nearby, leaving behind the dead weight that is his rifle.

To Ukyo’s astonishment, the American pilot manages to hold onto the other plane that was already going down.

“Keep her in the air, Bishop!” Ukyo hears him yell over the sound of a sputtering engine.

“My engine’s hit, _dipshit!”_

“Only until the river, _soldier!"_ And the enemy plane makes a valiant effort to right itself, barely missing the treeline at the edge of the clearing to continue past them.

Ukyo winces, because that would have been insubordination and bathroom duty in his old unit if he ever talked back to his commander like that. Wait, the _river?_

“We have to go back! They’re headed for the Perseus!” Ukyo yells, only to fall down to his knees immediately from the sting of his wound.

Overhead, the Harpy cuts a line across the sky, _opposite_ the direction the other plane has taken, _towards_ the American base.

What! Ryuusui’s pride as a captain would never let him abandon the Perseus!

“Ryuusui!” he yells as hard as he can, voice already growing hoarse, “They’re headed for _your ship! You have to—”_

And then he realizes it. Belatedly, but he realizes it anyway.

_Oh,_ Ukyo thinks, a little shocked, _That’s not Ryuusui._

-

-

“Dr. Xeno!” Brooklyn calls as she barges in on the communications room, her customary hunk of meat missing, “A plane is returning.”

“Good,” he murmurs darkly, his fingers steepled as he looks to where Gen Asagiri is curled up and restrained, “Make sure to take Stanley straight to the infirmary, don’t make me come get him.”

“Spare me your mating rituals,” Brooklyn complains but obeys anyway.

Alone with his prisoner, Xeno alights from his chair. He walks slowly, coming closer to Asagiri and kneeling in front of him. Xeno guides his head to look at him. Asagiri looks terrible really, in the way resigned people are, eyes blank, the fake petrification scar on his cheek already faded away.

“Whose idea was it to do this farce?” Xeno asks curiously, gentle as he caresses the ink on Asagiri’s cheek.

Asagiri grins with a menace. Ah, so he may have some fight in him after all. “What makes you think it wasn’t real, Dr. Xeno?”

“If it was, then that means you have petrified and depetrified yourselves for whatever reason,” Xeno points out. “Which means that this—” he says as he smears the ink even further, “—gave me the idea that not just Senku Ishigami knows the depetrification formula and allowed me to decide to have my once mentee eliminated.”

It was almost hilarious, how suddenly Asagiri stiffens and widens his eyes. Xeno smiles, mocking and cruel, “It was your idea wasn’t it?”

Asagiri doesn’t wallow long enough in his grief to be satisfying. Instead, he scowls at Xeno, “Then you know that we have the petrification device.”

Xeno lets him go, letting him slump to the floor, even as the spy’s eyes glare coldly at him. “True,” he concedes, “But if you did hold that trump card, you would have already used that, no?”

Asagiri looks away, defeated. But Xeno isn’t done. “You cannot even _dream_ of reaching technology of that level. Play all your cards Asagiri,” he taunts, “Whatever you have coming for us, we are already one step ahead of you.”

The spy isn’t given time to reply when a resounding explosion rocks the fortress, shocking them both. "What is going on?!" Xeno roars.

Brooklyn comes rushing back in, “Dr. Xeno! It’s the Harpy! It crashed into the castle!”

Xeno feels cold dread wash down his spine, his fingers and legs feeling numb. "Stan?" he asks softly, barely above a whisper, like a lost child.

His soldier looks stunned for a moment before she finally understood. She grabs him by both his shoulders. "Not here," Brooklyn reminds him, "The plane was empty."

The words take a second to sink in before a scowl takes over his features. "Show me," he orders darkly.

In his hurry to see the state of his fortress, Dr. Xeno doesn’t see the slow realization dawning on the face of one Gen Asagiri.

-

-

-

-

-

\------

**_RIVER_ **

\------

Suika pops out of the treeline. “The metal bird exploded right in the enemy’s castle!” she reports, trembling a little.

Tsukasa lands a hand on her head soothingly. “Good job, little melon. Hm, sorry you had to see that,” he hums. Suika takes a deep breath and shakes her head.

“It’s no use, no matter what I do, Gen’s transmitter doesn’t even make a sound,” Chrome sighs exasperatedly.

“They’re probably already discovered it,” Tsukasa comments.

Chrome’s eyes widen like saucers, “That’s _bad!_ They’re gonna hurt him! And we already let Kohaku and Hyouga go! I can fight, but mostly it’s going to be you?”

“Hm,” Tsukasa smiles, “I doubt it will have to come to that.” He turns to the side where the controls that allowed the Harpy to fly is discarded and the hand controlling it lets go. “Hm, am I correct?” Tsukasa asks anyway.

He is given an answering smirk. That’s all the answer he needs, really.

-

-

The kid isn’t particularly strong, but he’s perceptive, able to sense Kohaku’s attacks even before she can land them. But the same can be said of her.

They’ve been locked in a stalemate for a while now. He’s clearly in a hurry to return to their base, getting more frustrated every time Kohaku thwarts his attempts. It’s adorable, really. He reminds her so much of Chrome.

He roars something in that foreign language she can’t understand before rushing at her again. Kohaku easily leaps to the side, landing the handle of her knife against his nape, sending him sprawling to the underbush.

The boy groans in pain and Kohaku almost takes pity on him. Unfortunately, her loyalties lie where they were. Senku’s orders are absolute.

“Ha!” she says, out of habit, pointing her knife at him, “Are you ready to give up, kid?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer before Kohaku senses an incoming strike from her right. She instantly raises up an arm to block but is thrown back by the sheer force behind it. Strong, she realizes, stronger than Magma. The pain is beyond numbing in her arm, it is _definitely_ going to bruise.

There is a laugh as she skids to a stop opposite her attacker. A large, bald man, with round dark glasses. He helps the kid stand up, and Kohaku sees them, glinting bronze in the fading sunlight against the man’s knuckles. The boy hurriedly explains something in their weird tongue and the large man waves him off as he gets ready to run.

“Not so fast!” she yells as she sidesteps the large man to catch her original target by his shirt. The boy yelps in surprise but Kohaku can hardly pay him attention as she senses another strike headed right for her throat.

Only for the attack not to land.

The large man laughs again, but he is farther away now, cradling a cut on his forearm. When Kohaku looks up, she sees the sheer shift Kirisame insists is a dress and the blinding pink of Homura’s entire being. She drags her disoriented captive to his feet before throwing him across the clearing to his friend.

“Took you guys long enough,” she says in greeting.

“The boy is smarter than he looks,” Kirisame complains sourly. Huh. _Very_ much like Chrome then.

“You let him go,” Homura says calmly, “Why?”

“Beats me,” Kohaku says to which Kirisame just raises an eyebrow, “Tsukasa just said to buy them some time.”

Kirisame’s eyes widen, “Which means…”

“This Kingdom will fall by the time the sun rises,” Kohaku says with a grin.

Homura gives a small smile. Kirisame smirks, a little feral, “Wonderful, I _have_ been looking for a good fight.”

-

-

To Stanley’s surprise, the Harpy isn’t chasing them down. Not that it’s made their situation any safer. The Hydra’s wheels are bumping against the treetops rather than skimming the leaves.

“I can’t keep this up longer, Snyder!” Bishop complains on the pilot seat.

“We’re almost there!” he shouts back, seeing the lights of the Japanese warship coming on as the sun sets further into the horizon.

“Get her low! I’m jumping down to the ship!” he instructs as he crouches lower on the Hydra’s wing.

“What the _fuck,”_ Bishop hisses as she struggles with the controls, “This thing isn’t going to land itself!”

They’re almost at the riverbank now, the Hydra pitching low so Stanley doesn’t break his knees landing on the warship deck. He finds himself in disbelief as he sees the changes they’ve made to it, the main deck now changed into a literal warship’s airstrip, the crew running around like ants as they see the flaming airplane seemingly aimed for a crash landing.

If before he didn’t understand it, he fully grasps Senku Ishigami’s potential now. For Xeno’s dream world, he has to eliminate the one who poses such a great threat. And this time, he’ll make sure the job is done thoroughly.

“She’s going down Snyder!” Bishop screams.

Stanley rolls his eyes. “Figure it out, _soldier,”_ he says coldly before he lets go of the Hydra and drops down to the deck. At once his eyes lock on to a target.

Luna is frozen stiff in the middle of the deck at the sight of him. Behind him he hears the crash of the Hydra as it burns in the background. Some ants try to approach him as he walks nonchalantly towards Luna, each of which are disposed of easily with his current laser focus. Most are smart enough to continue running away.

The girl tries to take a step back but Stanley is on her in an instant, grabbing her by the collar of her dress. He turns Luna around like in a dance but it is anything but gentle. She ends up pressed to his chest, his arm, still bleeding sluggishly from the cut of the silver-haired man’s spear from earlier, wrapped around her neck in a chokehold.

“Stanley, that hurts!” she whimpers pitifully.

She is answered by the barrel of a gun he had swiped from Bishop, pressed against the small of her back. “Where is he?” he hisses.

“I-I-I don’t—I don’t know what—” she stutters in terror. The gun presses harder on her flesh, stretching her petrification scar, causing her to gasp.

“Be a good girl Luna,” Stanley says, almost crooning if only his voice isn’t laced with a fatal threat, “Show me where they’re hiding Senku Ishigami.”

Before she can answer, a sturdily built teenager comes up from below, carrying a body covered in a white sheet. He gapes at the sight of Stanley and immediately, he knows whose body that is. If they think they can fool him—

A sword is placed none too gently against the side of his neck, cutting off his train of thought.

“How shameful, for a man to threaten a woman’s life,” someone says in perfect english behind him.

Stanley grins but it's without humor and all menace. He lets go of Luna as he twists, pushing away the sword with his bare arm earning another cut he can hardly feel over the rush of adrenaline. The sword is sent flying across the deck. The gun is aimed to the head of the blonde man behind him and just as he presses the trigger, his wrist is grabbed, causing him to fire wildly into the sky. Undeterred, Stanley grabs his knife with his left hand, intending to slash against the blonde’s chest, only to be blocked by another sword the blonde had drawn from his waist.

He almost grins. They’re at a stalemate again.

“The Captain, right?” Stanley drawls, “You have some talent, I didn’t hear the Harpy coming at all.”

The blonde grins, “That’s your first mistake, Mr. Pilot. I never left the Perseus.”

_What?_

Stanley blinks, now distantly aware of the various fighters scattered around him. He whirls around, forgetting his opponent. He finds that the boy who brought the body in a white sheet is now comforting Luna with a girl who wore headphones. Beside him, a blonde boy-woman?-with curls is crouching, wrapped in the white cloth, as she checks Luna for any injuries.

Shit. _Shit. He played right into their hands._

His feet are moving before he realizes he’s ordered his body to move, but in his state of panic, he is easily subdued. He roars into the night sky.

_“Xeno—!”_

-

-

Xeno drags him to the dais where the communication equipment is gathered, before throwing him against the console. That actually _hurt._

“Tell them,” the scientist orders coldly, “Tell them to call off the attack.”

“Or what?” he answers blankly, “You’ll kill me?”

“There are worse fates for you aren’t there, Mr. Asagiri?” Xeno points out, a flat out threat and Gen narrows his eyes at him.

Well. What’s he supposed to do? The Harpy is already here. That can only mean one thing.

He picks up the receiver.

“To the Kingdom of Science—”

A little ways away, Chrome and Suika startles at the sound of Gen’s voice coming out of their telephone. Some distance from them, three powerful girls are locked in a stalemate against a man with deadly fists and a boy with inhuman senses.

“—This is Asagiri Gen—”

Further away, Hyouga and Magma carry a still knocked out Mozu between them as Nikki supports and scolds Ukyo whose thigh wound has started bleeding again. Beyond the Perseus, a red haired pilot rises from the crash of her plane, only to be met by a man with a petrification scar in the shape of a moon on his forehead, a _katana_ trained on her face. He is flanked by two fighters wielding spears, a bespectacled serious man, and a blonde boy who looks like he's about to piss his pants. Disarmed by her own superior officer, Carol Bishop scowls and raises her arms in a universal gesture of surrender.

“—I order you all to stand down your attack—”

On the deck of the Perseus, Stanley Snyder is screaming the name of his best friend, his life long partner, as he realizes that the greatest threat to his lover has slipped through his hands and is right at Xeno’s doorstep.

Unaware of all of these, or perhaps he is, Asagiri Gen takes a deep breath—and grins a devil’s smile.

“—Because we’ve already won!” he says cheerfully.

“What—!” Xeno growls, coming closer to Gen but the mentalist is looking at something behind him, relief and something else, something softer in the light of his eyes.

“Isn’t that right,” Gen drawls, confidence creeping into his voice, “ _Senku-chan?”_

A head with spikes of hair tipped in green comes out from the shadow of the doorway, followed by a tall, long-haired man who holds an unconscious Brooklyn behind him.

“Ah, correct,” Ishigami Senku replies with a smirk, “Ten billion points to you, mentalist.”

-

-

-

-

-

\------

**_SHOWDOWN_ **

\------

Senku swallows down the relief that rises in his throat at the sight of his mentalist grinning back at him. He’s a little roughed up, slumping against the console weakly, but he’s _alive,_ that’s all that matters.

He takes a step closer to his former mentor. He can feel Tsukasa’s stare burning in the back of his head. He’s _not_ supposed to be pushing himself—heck, he just flew a plane and controlled it like some kind of drone—but here they are, at the endgame.

Time to check the king.

“Dr. Senku,” Xeno greets flatly.

“Dr. Xeno,” Senku nods back, “I should have known you’d build a Kingdom of your own.”

There was a shadow of a smile in his former mentor’s face. “And I should have known it was you leading these children across an ocean. What did you do to my soldiers?”

“All alive, but unconscious,” Tsukasa answers on his behalf in broken english. Xeno looks sharply at him, to the near bloodless greatsword in his hand, and the knocked out Brooklyn behind them.

“Well then,” Xeno says, “To what do I owe this visit?”

Senku shrugs. “I don’t suppose you can let us work together again, this time around,” he says nonchalantly, picking at his ear.

“I tried to have you _assassinated.”_

“Eh, well I’m not dead,” Senku dismisses, prompting a small smile from Tsukasa.

Dealing with Xeno had always been tricky. Science to Xeno, is elegant, because science, in its harmless but endless potential, is an unstoppable means to a destructive end—to power. For Senku, the power to create has always been enough, science and its possibilities have always been enough.

It’s why they never saw eye to eye. But now, he has to convince him otherwise. And for that, he’ll have to convince Xeno to yield to _him._

“What can you offer in this world that I rule, Dr. Senku?” Xeno says loftily. He hears Gen let out a soft snort behind the scientist and Senku has to hide a smile. Despite megalomania being a frequent disguise, Gen has never been fascinated in such.

He takes out their trump card. The secret of Treasure Island glints in his palm like the stars that now cover the night sky.

Senku holds it out for Xeno to see. “This is the Medusa,” he explains, “The petrification device.”

“You expect me to believe you just happened to come across this gadget—”

“We picked it up, at an island full of survivors from the original petrification event,” Senku says, a little hollow at the image of his father dying alone on that island.

“Survivors?” Xeno scoffs, “No one could have survived that beam. Unless—” His former mentor looks at him sharply, “The crew of the Soyuz. They came back.”

“Yes. According to one of the people who lived on that island, this one fell from the sky some years recently. Caused a great war and all that.”

Xeno considers him for a long moment. “So you _do_ know how to use it. But you didn’t use this against me because?”

“You know I don’t like weapons of mass destruction,” Senku points out. Xeno frowns at him and Senku sees the exact moment it dawns on him.

“You want my help, to bring down whoever made this device,” Xeno says softly.

Senku grins. “Well, wouldn’t you think that’s something elegant?”

Xeno looks at him for a long moment, before he shakes his head fondly. “Your father always believed in you,” his former mentor says nonchalantly and the mention of Byakuya has Senku flinching, “He said that if anyone wants to rule this world with the power of science, you will always come along to stop them.”

“...he was always a sentimental idiot,” Senku concedes with a brittle smile.

“Too bad you are the same yourself!” Xeno tells him as he grabs an unsuspecting Gen from behind him, a dagger in his hand, against Gen’s neck.

“Gen!” Senku yells but Tsukasa is at his side in an instant, pulling him back and behind him, his wounds smarting at the motion.

“Hand me the petrification device, Dr. Senku,” Xeno says gravely, “In exchange for his life.”

He can hear Tsukasa swear under his breath. “Can’t you get him?” Senku hisses at him. Tsukasa shakes his head, “No, he’ll hurt Gen before I can get close.”

The taller boy looks sideways at him, “And you can barely stand anymore. What’s the plan then, Senku?”

Senku grits his teeth, looking at Xeno holding Gen hostage. He’s so close. All he has to do is convince Xeno. But _how?_

“Senku-chan,” Gen whispers, one hand trying to hold Xeno’s wrist away from his neck, the other inside his sleeve, “If it’s not me, it’s you. Isn’t that right?”

“Dr. Senku,” Xeno interrupts, “Do not try my patience.”

Senku glares at him then shifts his glance towards Gen who gives him a small smile. _Damn it,_ he didn’t want it to come to this. He hands Tsukasa the Medusa, who frowns at him. Then he looks back at Gen.

“You remember, don’t you, Gen?”

His mentalist grins back at him, “How can I forget, Senku-chan?”

“Dr. Senku—”

“Now!” Senku shouts and Tsukasa throws the Medusa into the air close to Gen and Xeno.

“What are you—” Xeno shouts.

Beside him, Gen is calm as he intones carefully, “Two meters, one second.”

Senku sees the exact moment Xeno realizes the threat might be real and not just a bluff. He hurriedly lets go of Gen as if trying to run away from the incoming petrification beam, just as Tsukasa rushes forward. But he didn’t have to.

The Medusa clatters uselessly on the floor of Xeno’s communications room. When Xeno looks up in disbelief, ready to lash out, he is stunned to a stop by Gen who is holding the gun he carelessly gave him as a threat what seems so long ago. Any further actions are discouraged by Senku’s soldier standing beside him with his wicked sword.

“Well then, Dr. Xeno,” Gen says, “Interested in a little russian roulette?”

-

-

-

-

-

\-----

**_CHECKMATE_ **

\-----

“You can just come in, you know?” Senku calls out to him.

Gen has the decency to look sheepish before he says haughtily as he enters, “I thought Luna-chan told you to stay put while your wounds heal?”

Senku looks at him sideways with a raised eyebrow, “She’s still _just_ a medical student, not an actual doctor.”

“She still knows better than any and all of us combined,” Gen points out.

The scientist gives an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “What _is_ it, Gen?”

Gen leans back against the worktable and considers how to breach the topic. “You didn’t follow my plan,” he starts.

Senku rolls his eyes, “What do you mean? I followed it to the letter. Lure Stanley away from the Perseus, concentrate our firepower on him until Xeno is forced to send out the main bulk of his forces, take out the head of the Kingdom of Corn—”

“No,” Gen rolls his eyes.

“Well, it all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

It did. After cornering Xeno, the rest of the Kingdom of Corn stood down. Senku isn’t one to take prisoners but he still has to convince Xeno. It won’t be long, Gen feels confident that Senku is going to break down that wall between him and his former mentor soon enough. For now, Tsukasa guards Xeno as he watches over Stanley in the infirmary, Kohaku trails a very scared Mustang, Bishop is angrily trying to avoid Hyouga, Nikki has bonded with Brooklyn over an expected mutual love of Lillian Weinberg, and Taiju has made fast friends with Brody.

But that _wasn’t_ the plan.

“The Perseus was supposed to use Stanley as a bargaining chip to escape the US unharmed,” Gen tells Senku point blank to which the other boy just frowns at him.

“And they were supposed to just leave you behind?”

“It was the best course of action!” Gen insists.

“Gen,” Senku interrupts, uncharacteristically serious. He puts down the equipment he had been tinkering to focus solely on him. “You thought I was dead.”

“Well, that’s what they all said,” he grumbles.

“And you wanted to go down with me,” Senku declares like it’s nothing but the truth, _because it is,_ his crimson eyes boring into Gen’s who looks away as he flinches.

Senku sighs, “Didn’t you understand what I meant when I said, if it’s not me, it’s you? Even if I _did_ die from the assassination attempt, I would’ve trusted you to continue where I left off—”

“But that kind of trust isn’t a one way street, Senku!” Gen snaps, “You don’t just get to go around risking your life and expect everyone to just be on board with it when you’re gone!”

Senku blinks at the hostility in Gen’s tone but the mentalist continues, pacing around now, his hands gesticulating wildly, agitated.

“ _You’re_ the center of this Kingdom! _You_ hold us together! This entire thing, this entire _plan_ to take down Whyman will crumble if we lose you, don’t you understand that?” Gen turns to him, his eyes flashing in a rare show of emotion, _“Do you?!”_

Senku is taken aback at first because Gen rarely ever becomes honest, much more being honest with himself. _Ah,_ he thinks. He catches Gen’s flailing hands in his own.

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. Gen flushes down to his neck at the action and the sudden apology, muttering something like _‘damn right you should be’_ under his breath.

But Senku isn’t done. “You’ve been holding this in since Xeno ordered my assassination, haven’t you?” he asks, tries not to be deterred by the subtle trembling of Gen’s lower lip. Oh the things his mentalist has had to go through without him.

He can't even imagine working through loss like that in a lion's den and _still_ be expected to deliver results and save an entire ship. It makes his heart _ache_ with a pain completely unrelated to his still healing wounds.

“You probably told yourself to be strong,” Senku says, thumb absently caressing the back of Gen’s hands, before he looks up to meet Gen’s eyes straight on, “But Gen, you already _are._ That’s why I believed in _you_ above anyone else.”

Gen looks away. “That’s a lot to ask when all I knew at that time is that _you were gone.”_

“That’s why I’m sorry,” Senku insists, “But you’ll never have to go through that again. I know I’ll need to let you out of my sight again because negotiating with the enemy—it’s what you’re good at, but if you promise not to get into trouble where I can’t see you, like going off on your own, I promise to always be waiting for you to come back, yeah?”

They’re both silent for a long moment, the atmosphere steadily growing awkward for Senku while Gen turns the color of a ripe tomato. “T-Then, if it’s not you, then it’s not me either,” Gen blurts out to save face before cringing at the nonsense he just said.

Senku raises an eyebrow at him, trying hard not to smirk or laugh because he can tell Gen is being serious, just trying to find the right words.

“It’s us,” Gen says finally, “Together. Isn’t it?”

This time, Senku really can’t help the grin that spreads on his face. “Are you really still that upset about the poker battle?”

“That’s not—I mean—Senku-chan! You meanie!” Gen whines in a rush, trying to break free of Senku’s grip.

If it’s possible for more blood to rush across Gen’s cheeks, it would and Senku finds it absolutely endearing. He’s not stupid enough not to recognize the feeling for what it is. Not if he’s been sensing the same feeling since that winter in Ishigami Village. Not if he’s seen it since they were young between Taiju and Yuzuriha, not if he’s seen it in the care Byakuya took to preserve Lillian’s legacy.

It’s no secret, especially not to Senku himself, that he treasures his mentalist. _Adores him._ He really shouldn’t have let him go on that mission carelessly, already suspecting that Gen would do something so stupid as infiltrate the enemy on his own. And because Gen is now obviously honest about his own feelings, he realizes he should have also made little precautions already knowing the enemy’s plans and Gen being miles away.

Trial and error, indeed. But if someone like Xeno can get it right, then he’s confident that he can too. But this time…

Senku interlaces his fingers with the hands still clasped on his own before lifting one to his own mouth to press kisses against Gen’s knuckles, leaving the older man gaping and speechless.

“But yeah, I was wrong and you’re ten billion percent right,” he whispers against Gen’s skin, “It’s us. Together.”

Gen doesn't hold back the smile that brightens his face, stretching the freshly applied ink on his left cheek. He steps closer, and when Senku drops his hands to grab his waist, he rests his arms on his shoulders, mindful of the new scars that litter Senku's body.

Sturdy, real, warm, _alive._

Bright crimson eyes shine with amusement as he comes close, practically nose to nose.

"Yeah," Gen sighs happily, "Us, together, Senku-chan."

Checkmate.

**Author's Note:**

> hmmmm the cipher is double layered so its a tough nut to crack, but everything you need to know is in there haha.
> 
> some important things though:  
> \- i can _not_ for the life of me, create strategy. so as bizarre as it seems, the whole thing is actually based on "the immortal game" which honest to god, im not even a fan of chess but it just. blows my mind every time.  
> \- flop, turn, and river, are the three "phases" of poker where the cards are revealed one by one. it's why the working title for this fic is actually "pokerface." hahaha.  
> \- if you pay attention to the names, with the exception of brody because he's been canonically named though i still assigned him a call sign, all the original american characters have a... very specific... naming theme...  
> \- the mention of the zarrow shuffle at the beginning is a homage to pixim's fic, cheers to the tin man!  
> \- did i night king a plane? yes. yes i did. i mean, just look at the plane's name...  
> \- i tried to give every one of the characters other than senku some time in the spotlight, it was only towards the end that i realized i left out so many people i'm so sorry!!!!  
> \- anyway that's all, please kudos if you enjoyed! a comment will give me the strength to power through my handouts!
> 
> thank you for reading my fic!
> 
>  **LINKS:** [tumblr](https://minitala.tumblr.com/) | [nonpriv twt](https://twitter.com/meowthtalksalot/) | [ccat](https://curiouscat.qa/gwiyomihoshi) | [fic masterlist](https://minitala.tumblr.com/fics)


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